


Pecuniary Compensation

by Eshnoazot



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: An eye for an eye, Angel Resources, Angel Resources Department, Angelic Flirting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bastard Bureaucrat Mode, Biblical Lore, Bureaucracy, Dagon and Michael are on Team “You fuckers are gross”, Demon Resources Department, Demonic sexual revolution, Demons got infections, Don't Lick the Walls, Friendship, Gabriel is a bastard and Beelzebub LOVES it, Gabriel was fired for 21 days, Heaven and Hell Gossip, Herpes, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Jus In Bello, Other, Paperwork, That’s a historical fact babey, The Lobby Between Heaven and Hell, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Tort Law, World's Worst Family Reunion, Worldbuilding, angel lore, deadnaming, demonic flirting, hand holding, rules of engagement - Freeform, wall licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshnoazot/pseuds/Eshnoazot
Summary: “They were,” Gabriel paused to consider his words, “Licking the walls.”“The what,” Beelzebub responded flatly, and then stared incredulously at the group of Demons, “You were WHAT.”“Heaven has great walls,” One of the Demons enthusiastically replied, “And Lord Dagon won’t let us lick the walls of Hell. We thought – maybe if Heaven had walls – we could lick their walls.”





	Pecuniary Compensation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shift7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shift7/gifts).

Of all the Demon Lords of Hell, Beelzebub hated Nirgal the most.

Now, from a purely Bureaucratic perspective, Nirgal was an ideal employee. He was short-tempered, generally always angry, not particularly that smart, but produced his paperwork on time, and always perfectly completed. His reliability had seen him rise through the ranks quickly, to assume the title of _Head of The Secret Police of Hell_. He had been Hell’s employee of the month for a very long time, in part because no one really knew how long a month was. His performance reports always were startingly appalling, and so he was _the single most effective spy_ that Beelzebub had ever employed – but he was an overachieving, back-stabbing bastard who had been staring too longingly at Beelzebub’s throne for _a_ _little too long_ and he didn’t know what a braincell was to even pretend to hide his coveting. Beelzebub also hated him a little bit, because his toenails were long and clawed and they made irritating little tapping noises when he walked. He also tended to just show up in Beelzebub’s office and want to discuss his job performance whenever Beelzebub was in a particularly foul mood.

It wasn’t an uncommon perspective to have in Hell.

Nirgal was despised almost the entirety of Hell over, to the degree that the first animal he had adopted as his animal aspect – the cockerel – had provoked the first movement in Hell for _unity _– to turn the cockerel into a synonym for _‘utter dick’_. Hell had near unionised for the opportunity to finally get one over that weasel bastard. Nirgal had sulked for half a millennium before he’d chosen a Lion to be his new aspect, despite the overwhelming peer pressure for him to adopt a slug.

The only decently acceptably evil thing he’d ever done, was to sneak into the Garden of Eden _after_ the Angels had gone sulking back to Heaven post-apple and nicked one of the first Horses. It was hardly a matter of great celebration though, because lots of Demons had snuck into the Garden of Eden _after_ the Humans were ousted just to stand around and smoke cigarettes and generally look cool. Now Beelzebub appreciated a little grand larceny, especially when levied against God, but Nirgal had brought a terrified Horse into _Hell_, and it was kind of like gifting a pet Rabbit at Easter – the obligation and responsibility outweighed the gift.

Beelzebub had to quickly invent the passably evil concept of _‘re-gifting’ _and hand the animal off to _Abigor_ – who was a decent Knight and Grand Duke of Hell, although they were a little too handsome to be well-respected. Dagon seemed to have a thing for them though, which was a tad surprising, considering Dagon _was_ well-respected for being suitably horrifying, having perfectly respectable needle-like teeth and generally a menacing appearance. But if a snake Demon had seduced an Angel, anything was possible these days. There was someone for everyone, they supposed. 

The central problem, was really that Nirgal was also a known _wall-licker_, being an absolute glutton for the taste of misery and filth. The adjacent problem was that demons were the worst.

The posters were originally a _joke_, really. Dagon, the _wonderous monster_, had pointedly eyed the filthy disgusting walls and cheerfully proceeded to make the unpaid interns produce a poster proclaiming “DO NOT LICK THE WALLS” purely because most Demons were dumbasses too-puffed up on thinking they were _evil incarnate_, instead of just being contrary fuckers who were still simmering over being kicked out of home over a little family spat re: ideological differences. The two of them, Dagon and Beelzebub, had sat and watched as every single Demon that had gone by narrowed their eyes and licked the walls _defiantly._ The problem was, although it was incredibly funny to watch Demons lick filthy walls just because they thought they were _sticking it to the proverbial man_, after a while the walls were slick and gross from Demon spittle, and an actual _problem_ had been made. Dagon, a few months after the failed apocalypse, had finally _snapped_ and _taken down all the posters_, after half her department had called out sick due to mononucleosis.

First, all of Hell had been issued corporations in preparation for the apocalypse, which ought to have taken place in on Earth – and no one had given them back afterward. Funnily enough, making a Hell-wide announcement that everyone had to hand some bodies back in _was an incentive_ for Demons to keep their illegal and illicit bodies as a matter of pride. They’d created little illicit fan clubs for bodies, where they’d taken to enjoying cooking and eating rats, and poking themselves until they bruises. The spread of an earth infection was something miles above what demons were currently experimenting with, but they’d taken to enthusiastically sharing the virus via wall-licking like a fish to water.

Where the Demons had first picked up the mono virus had never occurred to them before. Beelzebub could feel a headache building into something a little more deliberating; what they were sure about, was that Demons hadn’t been _canoodling _with the human locals. It seemed a little more likely that Hastur – the only Demon who had frequently been going back and forth between Earth and Hell now that Ligur was dead – had been eating lip balm snatched from purses or eating leftover food and drinks from café tables again. Crowley was a little too…_monogamous_, for being the source of it, and Aziraphale looked like he used hand sanitiser as part of his religious practice. There was also the matter of the _‘No Crowley’s allowed sign’_ they’d erected on the front door.

Licking the walls now made _sense_, in a _Hell_ sort of way: the lips had more nerve endings relative to their size than any other part of the body, and so were the closest thing to an erogenous zone that Demons had. Posters didn’t help to curb the behaviour, because Demons _were literally getting off_ on it. It certainly helped the whole atmosphere, to have Hell look and feel like a Gas Station bathroom – but Beelzebub had to draw the line somewhere. Asking a Demon to hand back in a body that they were now finding gave them _new and interesting sensations _when licking walls was an impossibility.

It also certainly didn’t matter that _Hell did not offer sick days_ – because Demons really didn’t give much of a shit about what was allowed or not. That was why half of Hell had spread a goddamn kissing herpes virus through Hell like a plague upon their house. Half of Dagon’s department had come down with the virus, and the ones that were showing symptoms like fever, chills, fatigue and sore throats were off in corners wallowing in misery and showing it off to their ‘friends’. The ones who got the more visual symptoms like swollen lymph nodes, pus-covered tonsils, coughs, and light-sensitivity seemed to have started a whole fashion trend.

More Demons were licking the walls, until the entirety of Hell seemed to be stricken with Herpes.

Dagon had pulled down all the posters in a rage over staffing issues and had been roaming the Hallways like a screaming banshee, physically pulling Demons off the walls and throwing them down into the Pit. Demons didn’t seem to have figured out that they could _lick each other_ yet, which Beelzebub was a little grateful for.

They all just seemed to think that walls had magical feel-good properties, and that at least, could be useful information to solicit what passed as loyalty in Hell. Beelzebub could promise _more walls_ and see how many Demons clambered on bent knees in servitude. Decaying Demon spittle was the worst thing Beelzebub had ever experienced though and would certainly never give demons more walls to attach themselves to.

The central problem was Nirgal though, which is why when Beelzebub received an urgent fax from Gabriel when they were halfway through staffing evaluations, Beelzebub’s hand twitched towards the official _‘firing paperwork’_ – which as its name suggested, involved a lot of fire. Nirgal hadn’t reported to their office that morning, which was even more suspicious given that all missing demons were suspected of championing the wall-lickers movement in response to Dagon’s anti-wall stance.

Firstly, they hadn’t been expecting a Fax from Gabriel, because today was Wednesday, and in only a few hours, they were planning to meet up with him in the cottage they regularly trashed for fun (and Gabriel made quiet repairs to) and eat increasingly odorous Thai Food. A Fax then, was unexpected, so only a true emergency would necessitate an immediate message, instead of leaving it until later that day.

“_Are you kidding me_,” Beelzebub hissed, when they had read the fax, and torn it apart with their own hands, “DAGON!”

Dagon appeared quickly – because Hell kept an open-plan office, having worked out a few centuries ago that a lack of walls and privacy drove people more mad than endless cubicles did. Dagon was greasier than usual, a sheer of disgusting oils releasing musky fishy odours which had made their clothing wet in splotches. Dagon was also frowning deeply and had a little blood on them that suggested a Demon had lost their tongue recently.

“We’re going Upstairs,” Beelzebub informed Dagon dryly, and didn’t wait for the look of utter horror before marching off towards the elevators, “The Archangels have Nirgal.”

“They can _keep _him,” Dagon replied, sounding a little pleased, quickly following on Beelzebub’s flank, “I certainly wouldn’t loose any sleep over the end of his wretched life. I might allow a 15-minute celebratory break.”

“There are others with him,” Beelzebub replied dryly, smashing the elevator buttons with their whole fist, “Archangel Gabriel was quite insistent that we both should collect these traitors, or risk a political and bureaucratic nightmare.”

“Ah,” Dagon replied dryly, “The pet Angel is barking for your attention.”

“Requires us to explain why we’ve invaded Heaven,” Beelzebub replied dryly, although a little pleased with the reputation they’d cultivated in Hell, “And whether they need to make new introductions to new management.”

Dagon stilled, and Beelzebub could practically hear their thoughts – an uprising in Hell was common, but a group of Demons trying to overthrow Heaven as a guerrilla force was a new concept. Gabriel had sent a very simple message _“Unsanctioned Demons caught in heaven. Collect from atrium ASAP or forfeit”_. It was a very _kind_ message considering the political climate between the two sides, and Beelzebub felt a little uncomfortable that it was probably Gabriel’s friendly feelings that were spilling over into their professional life.

They did sort of miss the casual threats of violence between them, but it was clearly providing Hell with an advantage if Gabriel was prepared to return some Demons who had gone AWOL to wreak some havoc in Heaven. What Gabriel expected of Beelzebub in return was something that made them a little more uncomfortable.

The elevator came after a long time – a rickety, rusty thing that groaned and shuddered, and had doors that didn’t properly open or close all the way. Still, the two Demons squeezed into the tiny elevator and waited patiently during the long ride. Somewhere along the way, the elevator grew expansive, plush and squeaky clean, but neither paid much attention to the interior design choices. The broken speakers quietly played terrible covers of popular songs at a volume that you naturally had to stain to make the lyrics out, but at a level, you couldn’t ignore. When the lift reached the lobby, cheerful elevator music started playing over the not-broken speakers and Dagon started looking for them with a fist clenched in consideration and want for wanton destruction.

The atrium of Heaven and Hell was Earth-based, and Beelzebub could smell and hear human feet pattering outside the glossy glass windows. The scent of car fumes and baking plastic was a little more like home, however, and Beelzebub inhaled deeply. They’d been trying to get that specific car-fume smell in their office for a few decades but could never find the time to work on the side-Hobby, given that they didn’t really have time off.

The Archangel Michael and Archangel Sandalphon were standing behind a group of half a dozen Demons, led by Nirgal, who was looking desperate and more squirrelly than usual. The Demons seemed to be comprised of the missing department, judging by Dagon’s foul language and sudden glower. Gabriel was frowning and looking utterly disgusted – _so, like normal_ – until he caught sight of Beelzebub climbing out of the elevator. His whole face lit up when he saw them, and Dagon started making gagging noises behind them until Beelzebub swung back an expertly timed elbow into her ribcage.

“_Raphael_,” Michael greeted first, with an oddly pleased expression, “Truly lovely to see you again, dear sibling.”

Beelzebub scowled and mimed a throat-slashing action towards the gold-faced Angel, who took a step back in surprise from the threat. Apart from looking entirely offended, Michael didn’t make a comment, but pursed lips severely.

“Hey Beelzebub,” Gabriel greeted with a smile, which drew a look of _horror_ on the faces of their Demons, “How have you been bestie? Sorry to pull you away from your work. We have a situation that I would like to call an immediate emergency meeting for, which is given as an allowance in section 6.7.1 of the- “

“Yeah what’s up _Mothman_? I’m suffering immensely,” Beelzebub cut in with an eye roll, pointedly ignoring Dagon’s choked breath at the use of the term ‘bestie’, “Give me the tl; dr version, I’ve got coal lobbyists to reward and a global mail system to disrupt.”

Gabriel looked a little offended by the nickname for a second, and then looked a tad considering and then _beamed_. Beelzebub stared back incredulously and then decided that the strangeness of Angels couldn’t be contemplated until the immediate problem was solved. Demons were a much easier problem to deal with, and so they whirled on their Demons with a scowl.

“_Explain yourself_,” they demanded and crossed arms across their chest with a dark look. The group was as ragged looking as usual, and but oddly covered in drool. More than one had faint bruising and scrapes to their corporations which looked like they’d gotten into a skirmish with an Angel or two before being dragged out and evicted. Clearly the Archangel security guards had been an effective team in grabbing them all, which was unusually out of the norm for Heaven, who usually just threw a bucket of holy water and called it a day. Michael’s hair did look a little askew.

Most oddly, underneath all their terror was a distinct look of happiness and joy and satisfaction. It was _offensive_ on the faces of their employees, and Beelzebub couldn’t help but look at Gabriel _suspiciously_. If he had been treating them well, they were going to have some serious words.

“We caught them in the waiting room,” Gabriel replied with a blinding smile; it was a ghastly sight, all pearly-white teeth as straight as a military cemetery, “They just walked straight in – a few cherubim were having panic attacks when they sounded the alarm. This was the sloppiest attempt at an invasion if I ever saw one.”

“This was not a sanctioned invasion,” Beelzebub snapped back, “I would have sent our _best operatives _instead of these _bottom feeders_ if it were so, pigeon-brain.”

“I knew it _couldn’t_ have been sanctioned,” Gabriel responded with his soft placating smile, “Because you’re far too smart to have organised this – if you sent in a tactical force we wouldn’t have caught on until it was too late.”

Michael scoffed; Dagon snorted so loudly that snot might have dripped out her nose. Beelzebub stared back incredulously, “Gabriel, what the _ever-loving fuck_ is wrong with you?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose sharply at the snap, and he was starting to look a little on edge but didn’t have a chance to respond before Beelzebub turned to the cowering Demons and put on their best Demonic Prince voice.

“What did you _idiots_ do? Who gave you permission to take a goddamned field trip to Heaven of all places? Do you want to be terminated? If you yearn for death, I would have personally included it in your _severance_ package,” Beelzebub’s voice was loud, demanding and angry, “Nirgal, I will _personally_ have you thrown into the sulphur pits to boil for all eternity in the most corrosive of acid if someone doesn’t tell me _what in the name of Satan you were thinking_?”

The Demons were cowering but kept glancing up the escalator stairs with a gleaming look in their eye that was a little too crazed to understand. Michael and Sandalphon seemed to know though, because they moved in front of the escalator stairs protectively like they were prepared to full rugby tackle any Demon who made a run for it. At the top of the elevator, Archangel Uriel’s head bobbed up, alongside her gleaming spear.

Clearly, Heaven had decided on a multiple layered defence system, for some bizarre reason. The only explanation was that they honestly believed the Demons would make a break back for Heaven, and that they might overwhelm a few Archangels to get there. Michael had her arms crossed over her chest with a daring expression, while Sandalphon had his hand placed where his celestial sword might have been. Both were looking incredulous, like they had experienced something so completely stunning that they still didn’t understand it. Beelzebub was growing a celestial headache and pinched the bridge of their nose in suffering when some of the demons starting muttering in low voices and take tiny steps towards the escalator to Heaven.

Gabriel absolutely noticed that, and levied a strong glare at the offending Demons, who _withered_ under his deathly gaze. It was a very attractive look on him, and Beelzebub had to acknowledge that with a lingering look.

“Don’t even try it, _Sunshine_,” He warned with righteous anger, and Beelzebub gave him a longer look at the anger and power behind his strong words. Gabriel seemed to notice _that_ as well and looked a little redder at the appraising look. Dagon gagged a little louder, and Michael seemed to agree with her, based on the curl of her lip and the harsh sigh of derision.

Nirgal on the other hand, was much more _cooperative_, and cowered a little more, until Beelzebub was satisfied with the deference. None of the Demons seemed prepared to start talking, however. All of them were deathly terrified, and casting longing looks upstairs in between terrified looks between the Angels and Hell’s Upper Management.

“Gabriel?” Beelzebub drawled, considering their broken and jagged fingernails while feigning disinterest, “Care to alleviate my boredom? I’m certainly not here for my _own amusement_.”

“They were,” Gabriel paused to consider his words, “_Licking_ the walls.”

“The _what_,” Beelzebub responded flatly, and then stared incredulously at the group of Demons, “You were _WHAT_.”

“Heaven has _great _walls,” One of the Demons enthusiastically replied, “And Lord Dagon won’t let us lick the walls of Hell. We thought – _maybe if Heaven had walls_ – we could lick _their walls_.”

Beelzebub was speechless for one long moment, trading an utterly blank look with Dagon who was cycling between the hottest of rage and extreme _pride_. Beelzebub held their breath under their lungs started to burn and convulse, and then inhaled sharply. By this point, Dagon seemed to have decided that she was in fact, capable of being incredibly proud of Demons causing pandemonium in Heaven, and rage at the traitorous inconveniences they had personally caused her.

“The walls are so delicious,” Another Demon added in a dreamy sort of tone, “And they feel so _sinful_.”

Beelzebub and Michael, for the first time in eternity, both reached the exact same conclusion: the universe was vastly populated by celestials with very little clue about how the universe worked, and the only proper response to that was to sigh and wonder why God had created so many painfully stupid children. Unlike Michael, Beelzebub decided a little negative-reinforcement was in order for them, back down in Hell.

“They also seem to have an Earth infection,” Gabriel said, with no small measure of _bafflement_, “And sexual conduct with humans was banned under section 8.4.2 of the Cambion- “

“I _know_,” Beelzebub snapped again, a little more sharply than they intended.

“We had to sterilise the walls,” Gabriel added, “With Holy Water AND human germ killer, it was quite frankly, the most disgusting task we’ve ever had to do.”

“_I know_,” Beelzebub replied, on the edge of something dark and dangerous.

Gabriel didn’t take the hint, and continued to talk enthusiastically, “We had to completely destroy the entire set-up. We’ve set the bill to Hell’s billing department for the standard replacement value – you really need to have a little team huddle with your employees and get this squared away before it spirals out of control. A little pep talk about conduct perhaps!”

“_Satan fucking damn it Gabriel, I fucking know._ _YOU_!” Beelzebub hollered, spun on the heel of their oxfords, and levelled the most malevolent expression towards the group of low-level Demon scum as they strode towards them and towered over their heads, “_Oi!_ _Get the fuck back to work.”_

Beelzebub unfolded their hands and held them rigid by their side. They were glowering so darkly that the Demons were practically crawling over themselves on their hands and knees back down to Hell. Beelzebub nodded at Dagon, who gave a strong look back, but aimed a strong kick at the slowest Demon. Nirgal looked back in terror for just a moment, and Beelzebub hissed back viciously until he was gone. Dagon, who was Beelzebub’s favourite person right now, gave a short bow, and a wicked smile that promised utter allegiance would be re-instated by the time the Prince of Hell returned.

Beelzebub slumped as soon as the Demons were gone.

“Not even an _apology,_ Raphael?” Archangel Michael hissed, “They were _licking _our walls. Do you know how disgusting that is?”

“Yes, Michael, _I do_,” Beelzebub retorted, with no small amount of condescension, “Did you know that I could tell them that licking an Angel would give them a _buzz_, if I wanted to? Count yourself lucky, you feathered prick.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits, “I could have just ordered the Holy Water to be brought forth, instead of offering you a chance to- “

“To what, _Mikey_?” Beelzebub let out a laugh, “To redeem them? Give them a second chance? What makes you think I give a single solitary shit if my employees lick your fucking walls for the kick?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what your problem is, you _unwashed urchin_,” Michael snapped back, “I haven’t the slightest idea what he sees in you, you- you _utterly foul_ _Demon_.”

“Oh please,” Beelzebub replied deadpan, “The compliments, _I’m blushing_.”

“I will _never _compliment you.”

“You already have,” Beelzebub quirked a tempestuous smile, “Please, do tell me more about how _unwashed_ and _foul _I am. I’ve been _very very bad_.”

Michael let out a huff, and hooked her arm through Sandalphon’s, who was shaking his head and looking a little too long-sighted to have properly processed the events of the day. Michael was blinking her eyes a little too rapidly, like she was struggling with putting a lid on her irritation. Gabriel inched closer to Beelzebub, like he was trying to physically intercept the unfolding bloodbath.

“Gabriel,” Michael responded after she’d taken an amusingly long breath to still her annoyance, “You could do _so much better_. There are many Angels who would welcome your friendship. Come to the choir and we will sing until you are surrounded by love and praise. I will ask Choirmaster Yahoel to compose hymns to convey _your love for Her_. You will be among Angels, Angels who are not afraid of _bathing their corporations_ due to terror that they may find themselves in Holy Water.”

“Crowley _bathed_,” Beelzebub shot back, “What makes you think all of us Demons won’t be immune to your bullshit by the end of the millennium?”

“You are _not Raphael_,” Michael insisted with narrowed eyes, “Raphael blessed the healing waters, they did not cover from them. You are an unacceptable spectre of their memory.”

“_Lord Beelzebub_,” Beelzebub gave a short mockery of a bow, “The new and improved version.”

“The new and _alone_ version,” Sandalphon interjected, “Here, in this room, there are Michael, Uriel, Gabriel and myself. Where are your demonic compatriots?”

It took a few seconds for the response to fully sink into Beelzebub’s mind, but once it did, they became keenly aware of just how vulnerable their position was – and just how close Gabriel was. He was within an arm’s reach; he could whirl and snap their neck without Beelzebub having the time to arm themselves. The air in the room suddenly tensed, feelings of hostility rose sharply and everyone in the room shifted into more tense body language.

For a single horrifying moment, Beelzebub could feel the hairs on the back of their neck standing to attention, feel the dawning recognition that Gabriel had lulled them into a false sense of security – through _Thai Food and Yoga_ – just to have them make a foolish mistake. To have them killed in a fucking atrium between Heaven and Hell. They had entangled themselves into this complacency, this trust, to the degree that they had not thought to call for back-up. They had, on some level, considered Gabriel to be on their side. They had forgotten that one day, they would have to face Gabriel, sword to sword. They had forgotten, that Gabriel, for all his hubris and over-bearing nature, was still one of the feathered arseholes recognised as an Archangel of the Heavens.

But – Gabriel _did not turn_ from his position. No sword was drawn, no triumphant Angelic trumpets blew. Beelzebub could see his tense form staring straight at Michael and Sandalphon – Uriel up above seemed to have more or less fucked off after the demons had left. There was a long pause stretching into the sunset of eternity, and then Michael’s lips formed a perfect ‘_o_’ of surprise, while Sandalphon’s eyebrows rose steadily.

“_Really_, Gabriel?” Sandalphon responded in a tone both tired and surprised.

Gabriel did not respond, and with a start, Beelzebub noticeably straightened as Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. Michael met Beelzebub’s eyes, both equally surprised, and then both broke the connection to stare at Gabriel. What the _fuck_ Gabriel was playing at made something terrified claw at Beelzebub’s heart in anxiety.

“This is neutral ground,” Gabriel insisted, “I will no less desecrate sacred ground with war, as desecrate this understanding of this demarcation line between our kingdoms. We created Rules of Engagement of _jus in bello_ to be followed to the letter of the agreement. What are we, if we abandon our own law. Her Law.”

“They destroyed our waiting room,” Michael shot back, “_Proportionality_ requires an appropriate reaction. Let us destroy _their_ waiting room. Uriel is still angry that they stuck her down a waiting room for half a century, she’ll be delighted to show some divine justice around the place.”

“Go ahead,” Beelzebub cheerfully responded, “It needs a little spring cleaning anyway. No one can ever get the cobwebs just right. We won’t pay for the service, naturally.”

“Well,” Sandalphon responded a tad nervous, “Did not the Lord have us proclaim the rules of war to be that_ ‘when you besiege a city for a long time, making war against it in order to take it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against it?’_ what is the bureaucracy of Hell, but their trees?”

“And the Lord also asked me to proclaim, _‘an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth’_,” Michael responded sharply, “To ensure reasonably pecuniary compensation for the damage we have received. The cherubim were _sobbing_.”

“Really,” Beelzebub added with a frighteningly wide grin, “Feel free to lick whatever walls you’d like.”

“Compensation serves to remove dangerous elements from society,” Gabriel offered, “They’ve _been removed_. This is now vengeance, and if vengeance is what you want, I’m sure Hell has something super nasty whipped up by now judging from the look of that anointed one.”

“She prefers _‘greasy’_ actually,” Beelzebub cheerfully responded, “But will accept _‘sebaceous’_ or _‘oily’_ in a bind.”

“I don’t really _care_,” Michael interjected with a sneer.

“This is a matter of tort law, then,” Sandalphon responded, “Let us seek wisdom from the Angel of Law, Raguel. It is within her realm to keep fallen angels and demons in check in a manner of fairness and justice. She will ensure the five realms of compensation are met: damages, pain, medical expenses, incapacitation, and mental anguish.”

“Then seek Raguel,” Gabriel responded firmly, “Because I do not wish to file complaints to the Angel Resources Department to level complaints of war crimes against my own siblings. I will, however, file proper documentation to ensure you are both thoroughly refreshed as to the requirements of _distinction_ and _proportionality_ of reaction. Today was a non-military matter, of civilians.”

“Demons are not _non-combatants_,” Michael responded sharply, “They are not _civilians_. One of them was at least a _Lord _of Hell.”

“Did they have weapons?” Gabriel responded with a bright smile, turning to show a co-conspirator glance at Beelzebub, “They just wanted to lick some walls. Under our own internal policies, and given the _anti-wall licking_ political stance of Hell, we might call them refugees.”

“Are you _kidding _me,” Michael responded flatly.

“Didn’t your God tell you lot to spread the message that _‘when the stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not wrong him’_,” Beelzebub responded smugly, “I’m pretty sure it was you, Michael, who sat on a mountain going off about not turning a slave into his master when he flees. Something about letting them dwell and not oppressing them? Because I can vouch that that sorry lot were fleeing anti-wall licking persecution back Home. Thanks for turning them _back in_, by the way.”

Michael looked ready to pop a blood vessel and destroy their corporation through a stress-induced cardiac attack. Beelzebub could feel glee bubbling in their stomach, and it felt a lot like an appendix ready to burst.

“The AR Department is always in the mood to order sensitivity training,” Gabriel added, looking pensive, “File the appropriate paperwork, send a copy for Raguel to review, and then we will file further paperwork on her recommendation in order to decide whether an inter-office meeting is required, or if no further escalation is within the realm of our judicial ability.”

“That’s _reasonable_,” Sandalphon responded a little hesitantly.

“Whose side are you on?” Michael demanded, removing her arm from his, “It’s ridiculous. Remember the good old days when we could just exterminate a few demons without paperwork? Now we’re made to file paperwork and treat them as _equals_.”

“Murder a few demons,” Beelzebub helpfully added, “Some of them had children.”

“Ah yes,” Michael responded, with false pleasantness, “The _Nephilim_. The _Cambions_. Let’s not speak of that horrific experiment, hmm? How are the second-tier, second-falling demons doing?”

“Asbeel just got promoted,” Beelzebub responded, counting on their fingers lazily, “Gadreel and Penemue are doing fantastically as tormentors of human souls, Kasdeja just became a tenured professor of _string theory_ somewhere _well-funded_. The Nephilim are doing very well in Hell, too. Samyaza has had a blast with his Nephilim sons and Elioud grandchildren. _Fantastically well_, thank you for sending us new recruits.”

“It was Gabriel who issued the command to kill them, didn’t he?” Michael responded with an upbeat tone, “Such a shame, that Gabriel was responsible for the genocide of the Nephilim, isn’t it? It must have caused them great trauma and pain. How do you _feel _about that?”

Beelzebub shrugged, “They all ended up in Hell, we built a school; popped a big portrait of Satan on the wall. Used it to influence the American public school system. Really helped us avoid custody disputes from humans too. Speaking of, when you speak to Raguel, let her know that she can fax the paperwork straight to Arazyal in the DR department. I think you might remember our Demon Resources Manager. She was once called Sariel.”

There was a pause, then Beelzebub’s lip curled.

“The one Demon who always knew who they were, the _last_ Angel to Fall, and the only one to _Fall alone_,” Beelzebub casually inspected her nails, “Unless- Raguel isn’t _still_ devastated that her favourite Angel _fell_, is she? It wouldn’t cause her great pain to have to speak to the Demon who turned her back on her, right? How _tragic_. How _heartbreaking_.”

“Just stop your _god-damned_ Demons from _licking our walls_,” Michael exploded, “It’s _disgusting_! By the Lord, why do you Demons always have to make a mountain out of a molehill? Keep out_. Stay out_. It’s that simple.”

“Heaven for the Angels, Hell for The Demons, right? Build more walls?” Beelzebub lazily responded, with a grin that was steadily making Michael grow red in the face, “I just love listening to divine commandments.

Michael was prepared to snap back, but Gabriel cut in first.

“A little _decorum_, Michael,” Gabriel responded, looking a little taken aback, “It’s just a little paperwork, and we’ll put this indiscretion behind us.”

“Indiscretion,” Michael responded flatly, “_Indiscretion_? Invasion Gabriel!”

“Indiscretion,” Sandalphon sighed, “It’s certainly better than a surprise war, isn’t it Michael?”

Michael's lips thinned into white lines.

“Not particularly like you though, Gabriel. Didn’t you want to execute a Principality without paperwork a few months back?” Sandalphon pointed out, while Michael steadied herself, “I remember the wall of Hellfire a little too vividly – and it gave me a nasty sunburn.”

“AR and I had a discussion around that,” Gabriel responded cheerfully, waving the response away, “Perhaps we all need some refresher courses on the subject? I certainly love a good seminar! Oh! I have a great PowerPoint presentation prepared for this! I think our bad relationship is due to cultural misunderstandings. For example, did you know that Demons give insults like Angels give compliments? Maybe this wall-licking was an overture of friendship! I’ve been designing a new seminar on demon sensitivity training now that my _BFF_ is a Demon.”

Gabriel pronounced _‘BFF’_ slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable with great care and precision, and then threw a thumbs up at Beelzebub. Beelzebub snickered and threw a thumbs-up back at him, purely because Michael pinched the bridge of her nose, and suddenly had the thousand-mile stare of disbelief and hopelessness. Sandalphon looked horrified but very interested; the expression of many Demons when seeing a terrible accident occurring in slow motion. Beelzebub stared back in unbridled glee at the dissent in the ranks.

One of Michael’s eyes twitched, and then she turned and strode toward the escalators, “Right, Gabriel, dear Brother, I do hope you know what you are doing – because I do not anymore – I do not know what you are doing, I do not know why you insist on this, I do not know why you would stand against us. I will be lodging the appropriate paperwork to AR in order to express my concerns over this undisclosed conflict of interest in your personal life.”

“I’ve properly documented everything,” Gabriel responded with a frown, “With the required diagrams and notarisation. It’s a relationship all above board, officialised and reported. You can access the proper documentation on request from the Hall of Records. Pravuil can fax you a copy if need be. You can also get a copy by sending a request to Camael.”

Michael looked surprised at the name, and Beelzebub struggled to recall what they knew of the Angel. The answer was less robust than they were happy with. By all accounts, he was an Archangel in his own right, who headed the Angel Resources department. He was also a stickler for the proper paperwork.

“If this is considered an acceptable format,” Gabriel continued, “I’m happy to host a seminar. I’ll prepare slides for the presentation detailing my Best Friend Status with Beelz. I have this interesting anecdote that will help set the mood - _So last Wednesday, Beelzebub orders a mug of Mountain Dew, warm, and the human telephone delivery man, get this, he says_\- “

“That will not be necessary, brother,” Michael responded, maintaining intense eye contact with Gabriel, “Oh! Would you look at the time, I have an urgent meeting to get to. Sandalphon, come.”

Without a single shred of care, Michael dragged Sandalphon up the escalator and slapped his hand when he waved back down at Gabriel. Michael did not look backwards, and Beelzebub kept their eyes firmly on the Archangel until they were certain she was really gone.

“I’ve never seen such _bastardry_ from an Angel before,” Beelzebub grinned, buzzing from ill-repressed laughter, “_’We would consider them refugees’, ‘maybe wall licking is an overture of friendship’, ‘demon sensitivity training’_. You’ve outdone yourself. Magnificent.”

Gabriel shrugged uncomfortably, “It’s time for Thai Food. I don’t like being unpunctual and I ordered food in advance. Amendment to usual expectations: I’d like to know why Demons are licking walls? Demon spit cannot erode the beauty of Heaven.”

Gabriel motioned towards the doors to Earth, and Beelzebub cheerfully followed him towards the outside world.

“Yeah, look,” Beelzebub shrugged, “Erogenous zones and human bodies. Would never expect you to take on some Archangels like that though. _‘You don’t like me? File a complaint!’ _I approve, pigeon. Apparently, you have some _chutzpah _in you after all.”

“It’s not the first time,” Gabriel muttered, looking around nervously, “There was that, ah, slight incident where I was stripped of Archangel rank for 21 days in ignominy, and Dobiel was officiated as my proxy.”

Beelzebub stopped in their tracks in utter delight, “You _did what now_?”

“It was a _temporary_ disgrace,” Gabriel responded indigently, and then added in a low voice, “Because I took pity on the Israelites when _She_ was angry with them, so I convinced the Babylonians to drive them from Babylon rather than kill them. During my suspension, _I might add_, Dobiel decided to make Persia into a superpower at the expense of the rest of the world, and by the end of the month, every guardian angel of nations became corrupted – except for Michael who officially took over from me. Dobiel’s a _disgrace_.”

Gabriel started walking again and pushed through the doors while Beelzebub stewed in delight over what counted as truly foul language from the Angel.

“I’ll trade you Heaven Gossip for Hell gossip,” Beelzebub decided, “Let’s find a bar, I’ll drink some cocktails and let’s complain about our respective sides. It’ll be fun and therapeutic or whatever. What’s the deal with Hadraniel? I’ve been trying to figure out that Angel’s deal for a few centuries now.”

“Why are demons licking my walls?” Gabriel said again, “I wasn’t lying – I did send your office the bill for compensation.”

“Do you take an IOU?” Beelzebub lazily replied, “Most demons don’t have a corporeal body; we don’t go gallivanting around Earth all that much, we have more important matters than one _insignificant_ planet. The ones who have a body just discovered the feel-good nerves that are sensitive and think that walls are the _origin point_ of that feeling. I’m pretty sure I’ll have a full-fledged sexual revolution happening by the end of the month if I can’t repossess their corporations.”

Gabriel’s nose scrunched up in disgust, “Disgusting. Human mating rituals are abhorrent. So many liquids and smells and weird noises.”

“They’re not all bad,” Beelzebub shrugged, “There are some behaviours that don’t involve fluids. Odd, but its _physiology-based_, and physiology influences biological and psychological urges. It’s no wonder that humans like it so much – but Angels or Demons can wear human forms, but we don’t have the instincts for it. It’s basically just a neat costume.”

Gabriel’s gaze had turned much softer during that talk, and Beelzebub looked away sharply, “I’m not Raphael.”

“I never said you _were_,” Gabriel retorted in surprise, “I was just _admiring _your knowledge and insight on the human condition of _grossness_. What other disgusting things do you know?”

“Well,” Beelzebub responded a little hesitantly, “A lot of humans _hold hands_ because it releases drugs in the brain. Dopamine and oxytocin – some humans will do a lot of _very nasty _things for more brain chemicals.”

“Hold hands?” Gabriel responded, raising a hand to _look_ at it. He stopped dead, and humans walking around them on the sidewalk almost ran into him, but Gabriel didn’t seem to care, even when they started cursing at him nastily. Whatever Gabriel thought, he clearly didn’t believe that hands could produce the same kind of bedlam that had stricken Hell over a little licking, judging by the perplexed look and skeptical slant of his lips.

“_Odd_ but go on.”

“Yeah,” Beelzebub casually, pointedly looking away as they reached to take Gabriel’s hand in their own, “Like _this_.”

Their hands were intertwined, fingers knitting together well, but a little bit awkwardly due to Gabriel’s massive hands. Beelzebub had chosen a much more fuel-efficient corporation, which meant all of them, including the hands, had come a little smaller. Beelzebub didn’t look at Gabriel during the long silence that spurred afterward and elected to turn the situation into something salvageable by using their hands to pull Gabriel into movement once more. He seemed to understand, and they were soon walking side by side again. Just when they’d decided to let go, Gabriel’s hands pressed down a little firmer.

“This,” Gabriel finally spoke, a few minutes, “This is _okay_. _Better_ than crying.”

Beelzebub let go of some tension in their frame, but didn’t chance to look at his face, “I know a bar around here somewhere that gives demons free booze on the house. It’s funny because we’re the landlords.”

“Beelzebub,” Gabriel said, but Beelzebub didn’t turn to face him, and instead made a pantomime of pushing through the crowd, barking warnings at humans who didn’t part immediately, “Beelzebub!”

Beelzebub didn’t look until they were at the bar they’d been thinking of, and Gabriel maneuvered to stand in front of the door.

He still hadn’t let go of their hand.

This time, Beelzebub could see his face, and it was a mess and splattering of all kinds of feelings twisted into something ineffable. Beelzebub could pick out hints of joy, but something quiet and revering rather than the kind of loud joy that Heaven espoused. He was smiling, but it was small, and accompanied by wide eyes – but it wasn’t really _shock _that he was displaying. Human beings and their corporations came in far too many millions of feelings that Beelzebub had never given a shit about, until they found themselves unable to read the language.

“This is _good_,” He said again, “This is _better than crying_, and I would much prefer to spend our time holding hands and not crying from now forth. Although, you did say there were no liquids involved, and my hand is very wet.”

“Because you’ve started sweating,” Beelzebub responded with an eye roll, “Why are you always leaking fluids? You sweat when you run, when we hold hands, you leak from your eyes when you cry, I punched you once and you bled. I don’t leak as much as you do. Are you defective?”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, “You’re _the worst_.”

“I love you too, _sunshine_,” Beelzebub mimicked Gabriel’s arrogant voice from earlier and levied a cocky smile back, “You’re still buying, and I’m feeling BBQ chicken wings and a warm beer. It always freaks the humans out when I eat the bones.”

Gabriel looked a little shocked, but then nodded and smiled back, “Of course.”

“You’re actually a pretty decent Best Friend,” Beelzebub decided, twisting around him to pull him inside the bar, “Now, miracle me up a decent table – I wanna hear all the sordid details about this shit Dobiel.”

**Author's Note:**

> I 100% took inspiration from Shift7 for the mention of properly filed relationship paperwork, because they are a genius is who dared to be the first of us to speak the cursed words:
> 
> “Regular Brain: Ineffable Bureaucracy having a secret messy relationship they don’t want anyone to know about.
> 
> Galaxy Brain: Ineffable Bureaucracy fully documenting in excruciating detail every single interaction they plan to have and keeping it in accessible records for everyone to know about if they chose to look.”
> 
> This is a gospel that I’m happily joining the bandwagon for, and you should all check out their fic “Agreements” because it’s honestly the best thing I’ve ever read. Due to this lifechanging experience, this work is gifted in their honour.


End file.
